Comforting Canada
by Love-Me-Secretly
Summary: Matthew is Sad and Sick. Arthur and Francis try to comfort him, but all the Nation really wants is is brother. Is that so much to ask?
1. Ill Be There Soon

A/N: I use italics, bold, etc.. here. They are all to draw attention to or emphasize something, as I am sure most of you know, but in addition, so you do not get confused, sometimes here Italics are used to show when someone's voice is heard through the telephone. Thank you for reading this. ^^

A/N #2: This is my fill to the request of: _Canada/Matt is scared or gets hurt and both England and France try to comfort him but all Canada wants is his brother America._ on the hetalia-kink journal on livejournal which I decided to post here for all you lovely people! Enjoy~!  
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"Shhhhh Hush lad. Its alright. What is bloody-"  
"Mon cher, Watch your tone around mon petit Mattheiu" Francis murmured softly, rocking the boy. He had called England, Half hysterical, and hung up before even getting out a coherent sentence. Reasonably worried,Arthur had asked Francis (Well, Not so much asked as screamed _'BLOODY FROG GET YOUR ARSE TO MATTHEW'S HOUSE!' _)

Arthur flashed a guilty look, noting how the fact his tone had risen during his attempts to soothe Matthew had only served to frighten the poor boy. "Sorry poppit" He muttered, kissing the crying boy's cheek. "Tell me what happened, alright?"

Matthew shook his head back and forth quickly. His body, obviously disagreeing with the motion, tensed, and he ripped himself from Francis's arms, only managing to make it to the bathroom door when his body bent over slightly and he was ill all over the floor.

Francis,seeming to be slightly alarmed, tilted his head towards England and, voice hushed, murmured "Cher, heat up some of the croissants I have in my bag. Just slightly warm, not hot" he muttered, figuring the other nation would need something to distract himself with.

He quickly agreed for once, and, sending Matthew a worried glance, headed towards the kitchen, picking up the small baggie of croissants and other small things from Francis's discarded bag, tutting to himself when he noticed it was made in France. "would it bloody well kill the frog to buy something made in my country for once? We have bags of much better quality than this for half the price in that darling little shop across the street from the hotel he usually stays at..." He muttered, rolling his eyes, ranting quietly about it an a (weak) attempt to distract himself from his worry over the boy in the other room whom Francis was currently tending to.

In the other room, Francis had grabbed a tissue and gently dabbed the Vomit from the corner of Canada's lips. "Petit, why did you not tell me you were Ill?" He noted the tears still burning in the other's eyes and gently hugged him to his chest. "And sad as well...why did you wait until now, Mattheiu?" He asked softly, proceeding to give him a gentle scolding as he stroked his hair. "Now, how long 'ave you been sick cher?" He asked softly. "Tell Papa, s'il vous plaît?"

Matthew gave no response to the question, shivering lightly, causing Francis to frown and, gently sliding the boy out of his lap, standing, only to pick him up and carry him to the bed, lying him down, pressing his lips to his forehead. "Cher, You have a fever..." He murmured. "Well, If 'ou won't tell papa how long you've been sick, will you tell Moi why you were crying?" He asked softly. Canada shook his head again.

"Is there any'ing I can do to make you feel better?"

"W-w-want Alfred..." He sniffled.

"Cher, Alfred is at a meeting"

Matthew only responded by bursting into another full-blown fit of tears.

"Alright, alright mon petit! Shhh Shush, i am calling your brother!" He soothed, dialing a number on his cellphone and pressing it to his ear, gently stroking Matthew's hair as he sniffled away his tears.

A voice came on. _"Dude, France! Not that I don't want to talk to you, cause a Hero's gotta be nice and wanna talk to everyone, but I'm kind of busy brosky!" _

"Amerique, Your brother wishes to speak with you. 'e is very ill and..." He hummed softly, trying to say how upset he was without wounding the Canadian's already fragile pride. "Eh... Shall we say under Ze weather in other ways?"

Alfred paused for a moment, then some shuffling was heard, as well as a muffled. _"Guys, Ive gotta go use the totally Heroic bathroom for a moment!" _There was more almost- silence, only the sounds of footsteps heard, before his voice came back on.

_"Put Mattie on the phone, Hearing my heroic voice will make him all better in no time!" _He said, voice holding some slightly-forced cheerfulness. Francis pressed the phone gently under the Canadian's ear.

He sniffled, but whispered a soft "H-Hello?" Into the mouthpiece.

_"Hey bro, what's wrong?"_ He asked, voice unusually gentle.

"I-I-Im sick 'n I had a nightmare..."

_"Aw, want me to talk to you for a bit?"_

"Y-Yes please.."

_"Okay bro-"_

"C-can you come over instead?" He requested shyly after a moment, wiping at his eyes with a tissue the Frenchman handed him, politely ignoring the conversation, knowing Matthew liked his privacy.

_"...Uh...Im kind of in the middle of a __**really**__ important meeting..."_ Alfred said regretfully.

"O-Oh.." he whispered, curling in on himself.

As if seeing it, Alfred bit his lip. _"Hey bro?"_

"Yeah?"

_"I can miss one meeting. Ill be there in about an hour okay? can you hold out that long?"_

"C-can you stay on the ph-phone?"

_"Sure bro. Ill bring McDonalds."_ he siad, tone teasing.

Despite everything, this gained a soft giggle from matthew. "Don't you dare alfred!"

_"Well, I __**guess**__ for my bro I'll bring something else..."_

"Oh?"

_"Yeah...maybe Some Canadian syrup I have riding around in my car that you gave me last week. Doubt you'd be interested~~"_

He giggled again, tears drying up. "Of course not...Bring it anyways."

_"You've got it Bro."_


	2. Brother Mine

Alfred shut the Front door gingerly, being careful not to slam it, a small bottle of maple syrup tucked in his pocket falling to the floor in his distraction, causing him to whine.

"Thats totally not heroic!" He whined at it as if it could respond.

Arthur, hearing the commotion, peeked out of the kitchen. "Keep it down Git!" He hissed at him.

"But Artiieee!"

"What Have I _told_ you about calling me that!?"

"It's not proper, not right, blah blah whiny ranty Englishman stuff."

"Why you little!"

A voice cut through their squabble. "Non, Non, Non! This won't do at all! stop Whining like children!" Francis's voice said, a small pout on the Frenchman's face although there was a stern edge to it. "I Just got Mon Petit Mattheiu to sleep and I wont 'ave 'im woken by you two being stupid!"

"I wasn't being stuuuppiiidddd!" Alfred whined, apperently in a childish mood today. "Artie was the one being Dumb!"

"** DONT CALL ME-**"

"Hush Angelterre!" Francis snapped, clearly too upset by his son's current condition upstairs to bother with being somewhat nice about it. " And Amerique-"

"Dont call me by that freaky french name!"

"I'll 'ave you know the French language is considered very erotic and beautiful you ungrateful brat!"

There was a small whimper from the top of the stairs.

They had awoken Matthew.

A/N- Short, I know. Desole~! I am quite busy at the moment but I had a small spark of inspiration for a small chapter and I figured something was better than nothing, Oui?


	3. And you'll be safe and warm

A/N: Yeeeahhh, I was distracted and sleep- deprived when I wrote chapter three before, so I opted for a rewrite. I find this one _much_ better in my opinion. :) And, as a bonus, it's longer! *feels guilty for such short chapters*

Also! I now have a _beta _so, unless I get impatient (a huge flaw of mine) most of what I write shouldn't have those odd random capitalization errors I am prone to. This chapter is unbeta-ed though, so bear with me! (Yes I was bad, please forgive me OTL. on the upside, this is a fairly log chapter considering how terrible I am at staying focused!)

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Chap 3 V2: _**And you'll be safe and warm.**_

Alfred gave him a small smile. "Hey bro. Feeling any better?"

Matthew sniffled, but nodded a little.

"Need a heroic hug?"

Matthew blushed softly, but gave a tiny nod. When Alfred opened his arms with a tiny smile, he ran down the steps and dove into them, causing Alfred to give a (what he would later claim to be heroic) yelp of surprise, barely able to stop himself from falling over. "Easy bro" he snorted, eyebrow raising.

His only response was a tiny sniffle as he nuzzled his brothers collarbone, followed by a tiny sneeze.

"What are you even doing out of bed bro? You're not heroic enough to be running around sick."

He snorted, slightly amused. "If I'm not a hero, What am I?"

Alfred thought for a moment, smirking softly. "A damsel in distress"

"Alfred!"

The personification for America only laughed.

"Asshole." he pouted

"Nuh uh." Alfred retorted with a grin

"Yes-huh, hoser!" He huffed stubbornly.

He pouted. "You're so mean to me..."

"I kno-" he was cut off by a tiny fit of coughing.

Francis frowned, concerned, stopping in his pursuit of Arthur, having smelled something burning and wanting to know what he had burned, memory a bit frazzled from the stress with Matthew. "Mon cher, you should be laying down." he rebuked gently.

Matthew smiled sheepishly at the gentle scolding.

Alfred gave a mischievous Smirk. "Well then, Up we go!" He said, leaning down to swoop Matthew into his arms Bridal-Style.

Matthew squeaked. "Put me dooowwwnnnn!"

Alfred ignored him, running down the stairs.

The last thing they heard from the two downstairs was a soft cry of horror from Francis when he realized his beloved croissants were what had burned.

Arthur laughed sheepishly. "E-Eh, Look on the bright side. at least now I can make some of my scones!" he said sheepishly, cheered by the thought.

Francis clenched his jaw. "**Non!** Those were some of my special croissants and the ingredients Mon petit has..." he sighed. "I thought I taught him better than to buy such second rate spices!"

"...I gave them to him..." the Brit huffed, offended.

"That explains it. Mon petit is to kind to tell you that your ... 'spices' are no better than your cooking, cher."

"What is that supposed to mean, frog?!"

"...Exactly what I said."

He growled. "My scones are better than your stupid cooking. " he snapped.

Francis gave a lazy smirk. "Cheri, you cannot come up with anything better than that? your scones... to put it as... accurately as possible, I have to borrow words from L' Amerique... who is surprisingly correct about this. They taste like 'petrified couch stuffing'."

He gaped. "The... the stupid Yank said that? What that... that bloody _**wanker**_!" he seethed.

"...Oi... I shall just go get rid of that 'orrid* smell now cher."

"Right, I suppose we should work on getting the lad something to eat rather than arguing over _someone_'s snobbish tastes and _rude_ opinions."

He only rolled his eyes, grabbing a can of air freshener. "Oui, I suppose. _hypocrite_" he added under his breath.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, cher. nothing."

"Right then. I'll start on some nice scones for the lad. and perhaps a spot of tea.." he murmured, starting to gather the necessary ingredients, humming softly.

"Ah! Cher..." Francis interrupted before he could start, tone a tad sheepish as he scrubbed at the plate his poor croissants were on, staring mournfully at the trash can his scorched treats were now in.

"Yes?" he said, tone a tad cheerful that he was cooking. Ah, god it mad Francis feel so guilty to ruin that, so...

"Ah, Nevermind Cher, nevermind."

"If you say so..." he said, starting to mix the lumpy goo he called batter, oblivious to the wince Francis gave upon spotting it while putting away the plate.

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Ending A/N: Hopefully that is better for all of you! :) Not the funny (and terribly written) moment from before though... do you think I should add in a tad more humor (better written next time, I promise) or stick with the sad and comforting theme of the story entirely (which is, admittedly, what I'm better at)

*No, that isn't a typo. it's my attempt at showing that no, I didn't forget France has an accent ^^;


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